The Stone Bird Cage
by Trey St. Clare
Summary: Orihime has been left for to long, in her cell of Hueco Mundo. And as her mind travels to dark and dangerous places, Ulquiorra comes to check up on her. And has a unique form of punishment. One-shot Orihime X Ulquiorra slight lemons.


'To Sarah, although I will never know what you see in this pairing, for all you've done for me I thought I would give it my best shot. But I warn you there will be "no heart warming stories"'

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, and regrettably never will.

The room was cold, almost damp, the bear marble walls retaining no heat. She shivered slightly as she sat on the thin cloth rug, one of the only facets of the otherwise bare room. Sighing she hugged her knees close to her chest. She had been . . . thinking, in this cold barren place there wasn't a lot else you could do. With the time that had passed she had managed to convince herself, convince herself that coming hear was the right thing to do. She had managed to save her friends from a fight that they where not yet capable of winning. Of course she was not so Naïve as to think that she had protected her friends altogether from battle. She knew that eventually they would have to fight, but in buying them more time she justified her decision.

However by comparison of how long she had been in this room, that was a relatively quick conclusion to come to. And only left her time to think about the aftermath of her so eloquently justified decision.

This was problematic, as knowing them (and she did), they would no doubt come rushing to save her, and there by waste any time that she had bought for them. This was a troubling thought, and yet again through her thoughts in to turmoil. If they should come to save her they would most certainly lose, and it would be her fault. That was, unless. . . .

"unless there was nothing for them to save. . ."

more time passed in the dark room, and in the silence of her mind she mulled over the dark ideas that festered in her head. Until like previous ideas she came to justify it.

She was no fighter, she could never escape, and the state her friends where in now they could not save her either. From what she had seen, out of all those whom she thought would come to her rescue, only Ichigo would stand a chance.

And even that was only a chance. However if she wasn't hear, then they wouldn't come to save her, and use the precious time that she had bought them to train. Hours passed of long black silence, and her resolve only strengthened. This is how she would help, this would be the part that she played. Now in the darkness she was absolute in her decision to sacrifice herself and take her own life.

A plan had already festered in her mind . . .

latter on in the day (if this black void could be divided in to days and nights) he came to check on her. The door creaked open, heavy and long, and he stood in the arch way, facing her back.

He looked across the room at the still uneaten tray of food, it had lay there since yesterday, apparently his threats had gone unheard.

"I told you already that you need to eat. Do you take my threats so lightly woman, by your doing or mine you will eat."

She knew that his threats where not empty, but this only played into her hand. She turned where she sat she faced him and looked at him with a look of emptiness and defeat.

"I understand, I will eat but if it isn't to much trouble, could I have something of a little more substance than bread and water?"

her eyes trailed the ground, hands on her lap. He looked down and eyed her. Hands in pockets, face expressionless like it always is. Never vocalising or showing the thoughts that where rushing through his head. Her heart started to thunder in her chest, she was beginning to realise that she might not get away with this. She had been so defiant yesterday, he surly wasn't going to by this was he?

She looked up hands still clasped on her lap, and he looked back, blankly, eyes an emerald void. His eyes closed slowly, and he turned on his heals, hands never leaving his pockets. As his voice melted the icy silence, as it rolled like rich velvet from his lips.

"did you have something in mind that you would particularly like?"

her eyes widened, taken aback slightly by the request, and by the shock of the sudden realisation that her plan might actually work. Quickly she articulated her thoughts. She needed to request something that would be difficult to eat without western cutlery but, Aizen had mad no secret in the time she had been there of his love of western food and drink. Not wanting to arouse any further suspicion she answered.

"Could I have a rare stake, with some boiled vegetables and some red bean paste?"

she voiced the order so naturally, fake smile drew across her face, hope dripping from her voice. He never even looked back, as he stepped out of the threshold.

"I will see what we have available"

he walked at an agonisingly slow pace down the corridor. The heavy iron door to the dark cold room screeching shut behind him. The darkness pounced on her, and once again she was cold, alone and thinking. She had initialised her plan, now she had to wait and see how it would play out.

Time is a hard thing to judge, in a place where the darkness never leaves. However after what had felt like forever in the cold and silent dark, she heard the sound of steady, light steps approach her door. Hear heart beat became audible as it palpitated in her chest, and the heavy iron door again slowly creaked open. The light from the open door chased away the writhing darkness that had previously occupied the room. Her eyes stung at the sudden invasion of light, and as she tried hard to focus his frame became more defined. He stood in the doorway. His face though not cold or condemning, held no trace of emotion. Blank emerald eyes stared back at her. Under the weight of his gaze she felt her breaths turn to sharp gasps. Her eyes found there way to the tray in his hands. She gave it a questioning look. As if answering her silent question, his velvet voice filled the room.

"Rare stake and boiled vegetables, we have none of this red bean paste that you requested. I trust that you will be grateful for this act of kindness, and do not dishonour Aizen-sama's generous hospitality further."

and with that he placed the tray down, just beyond the threshold, and turned yet again to leave. The door following closely behind him to clink shut. She sat weary and still as she listened. The foot steps faded into the dark. As she rose from her seated position on the floor, her legs stung as pins and needles, prickled her from all directions. She had obviously been siting like that for a lot longer than she thought. She walked slowly over to the tray he had brought to her, and examined it closely.

She crouched down low beside it. On the tray was a large slab of meat, and to the side of it was the boiled vegetables. Finally her eyes widened, as the fell upon what she desired most. The sharp, serrated steak knife glinted in the pale moonlight. Steak was indeed of more substance than bread and water, and more difficult to cut. Her breath caught in her throat, her hand shaking with anticipation as she reached forward slowly to grasp the implement.

He was now three corners away from her cell door. And as he had been walking he had been pondering. What was it about the situation that did not sit right with him? She had been so defiant yesterday, not wanting to take anything from them. If she had been truly hungry surely she would eaten the bread. Why would she make such a bold request, and have such a sudden change of heart? He stopped and turned on his heals, and began with the same pace to make his way back towards her room. Aizen-sama had put him in charge of looking after, her he couldn't be too careful. He reached the large iron door, and with one hand moved forward to push it open.

His green eyes scouted the darkness and froze upon her figure. He had been right to come back. She sat on her knees,cheeks streaked with tears. Her body shuddering with sobs. Knife held flush with her throat, hands gripping both the handle and the blade with enough force to draw blood. It had dripped down the her wrist and spread down the white dress, and pooled on the cloth rug beneath her. Staining it a dark red. She was frozen in place, and her puffy red eyes pierced the darkness to fix themselves on him.

She hadn't felt the blade slice into her hand as she gripped the blade. Her resolve was to strong for that. However that was not to say she wasn't scared. She hadn't felt the first tears as they rolled down her cheeks. But she felt her body as it convulsed with sobs. She held the knife tight and pressed hard into the creamy flesh of her neck. She steadied her body and prepared to take her own life. As she willed her muscles to push the blade through the pale flesh, the door creaked open. Her concentration gave way, and her body was once again wracked with sobs and shudders. Tears ran down her cheeks. She hadn't even heard him coming down the corridor. It was over. Her body couldn't move under his gaze, and her eyes where glued to him.

He couldn't allow this. Her milky skin stained red with her own blood. Her delicate skin chapped with tears he wouldn't let this happen. At the very lest, Aizen-sama would not approve of her being in this condition.

She was frozen, the fear of getting caught had held her on place. As he slowly started to walk towards her, he took slow and confident strides. As she sat she found his pace agonising. As he got close to her, she felt herself swallow hard, her skin pushed against the blade at her throat. He was now right in front of her. He crouched down until he was at eye level with her. His hands no longer in his pockets, had crawled up towards hers. All the time his deep emerald eyes remained locked with hers. Realisation of what was going on fully hit her, when his cold porcelain hands clasped hers. Her whole body flinched with the contact, his hands had a firm grasp of hers. They slowly, and forcefully, pealed her hands away from the knife. She wilted in his hands, fingers falling from there grasp like petals.

"What do you think you are doing?"

She heard his voice but made no attempt to answer. Her body now shivering with fear of what was going to happen to her.

"Do you really think that this will do any good?"

His voice was deep and dark, slow and controlled, it held absolutely no emotion. He was merely assessing the situation.

"M. . . mmm. . . my f. f. friends"

Was all she managed to stutter out, as the tears once again began to flow down her face. The knife clattered as it hit the ground, finally free from her grasp. He looked deep into her eyes and held her there. One hand moved from where it was, holding hers, towards her face. Slowly and gently, much to her surprise, it cupped her chin. She hadn't expected such gentle contact from the espada, especially given the situation.

"Do you really think that your death would stop them? It is more likely to make them rush. To make them blind with anger and grief."

He was so to the point. Clinical about his tactics. He had such knowledge of human emotion, and yet seemed to display none. But, he was right. Knowing Ichigo this would not deter him. Both hands fell to her side, as harsh realisation hit her. She was not able to help her friends. She had: allowed herself to be taken to Wako Mundo; potentially ruined any battle attempts made by her friends; and been caught trying to kill herself by one of her captors. She would surly be punished for this, knowing the ruthlessness of the espada. She shut her eyes, wishing no longer to be held by his cold analytical stare.

"Clearly you have been left without company for to long. You mind has wondered into dark and irrational places."

He spoke calmly, his voice held no tone of accusation like she thought it would. Shocked she opened her eyes to look at him. But he wasn't looking back at her like he had been a moment ago. His eyes where cast down, looking at something at her side. She followed his line of vision, and her eyes fell on what held his attention. Her hand oozing thick black blood. It hadn't hurt up until this point. But now looking at the flesh wound she winced. This, did not go unnoticed.  
"Heal it"

It was a direct command, she was in trouble enough without being more insolent.

"Sōten Kisshun, I reject"

her hand was enveloped in the warm orange glow, as the flesh began to fuse back together. In moments her hand was completely healed. Her eyes never left her hand, but she was painfully aware of his eyes burning in to her. His hand, still cupping, her face began to move down to grasp her chin. With his long elegant fingers he pulled her face up to meet his. His head bowed softly to meet hers and his lips pressed gently to hers. She was shocked, this was so far from what she had expected. His hand was firm yet, not over powering. His lips where warm and soft, there touch gentile, and hinted at a humanity hidden by his outside appearance. She still didn't fully understand what was going on, when his tong sought to push apart her lips. She was,. . . . caught up in the moment. Caught up in the feeling. Her first kiss. She let him in, and as she did his tong caressed her bottom lip. Extended past to meet with hers. She let herself mirror him and kiss back. She was clumsy, her her lips held none of the grace in movement that his did. However she was still meting every move he made.

Unsure of her movements, her hand came up slowly. Hesitating at first, she gingerly grabbed onto a fist full of fabric, from the corner of his coat. The other hand, more confident due to the lack of reprimand, snaked its way up his side and fixed itself around his neck. He hadn't reacted to her grabbing at his coat. But as her hand lay on his neck, and her movements found more confidence, he leaned in. Pushing his weight upon her he deepening the kiss. Pushing her off her knees, to fall backwards towards the ground. As he did, his free hand moved to place itself at the middle of her back, to lay her down gently upon the floor. Never once breaking the kiss.

The hand that had so firmly held her chin, moved down her neck. Finger tips tracing the milky smoothness of her skin. Over her collar bone, to land on her breast, and teasingly grope at it.

This was so new to her, she had never been touched so intimately before. she couldn't help but let her body react, as soft hesitant moans of approval escaped her lips, and where muffled by by his.

He took this as a sign to proceed. As he removed one hand from under her back, the other left its position on her breast, and started swiftly to the task of unfastening her top. It lay open down the middle, and left her more exposed than she would have liked. She broke the kiss to protest, but the tip of his index finger found her lips and hushed her. Now with his lips placed beside her ear he whispered in a low forceful voice,

"take it of."

His voice was stern, and she found herself unable to refuse his command. She arced her back, cheeks burning from her blush, and pulled her arms out from the top. As she did this, his hand snatched the bundle of cloth out from underneath her. With one swift flick of his wrist, he dispatched them across the room to land by the threshold of the door. Quickly his lips found hers. As one hand found her breast and continued as it was; unhindered by the restraints of her cloths to tweak and tease her pert nipples, the other moved down her side tracing the curves of her body. It traced across her stomach. She wasn't trying to hold back the moans anymore. She was lost in the moment, her blush had faded but her body was still hot. It burned under his touch, and the touch of his hands. His lips riled her body as she panted and moaned into his lips. Her back arced into the touch of his hands. She knew this was wrong, but the way that it made her feel incited her feral pleas for more.. His hands made to undo the sash that her her pants up, and as he grasped at it he paused as if for approval. She made no indication of protest this time, she was to far gone. He tore the sash and pants from her frame, and tossed them across the room, to melt into the pile and meet the same fait as her top. She moaned, but was glad for the cold that suddenly caressed her flush skin and hot body. She was starting to pant faster, and moan heaver now as primal instincts guided her. Her hands where writhing there way into his hair and down his back. And as his hand left her breast, that he had been meticulously fondling, to move and worry the neglected one beneath his fingers, the other found its way between her legs. His fingers ran there way up the inside of her thighs, to he apex where they met. To firmly brush agents the fabric that lay there, the fabric which was all that separated her from total nakedness.

She was already wet with anticipation, and his fingers slid easily beneath the fabric to rub the sensitive flesh below. She broke there kiss as she voiced a throaty and urgent moan and hiss of pleasure. At his touch her skin was glistening with sweat, as she writhed beneath him. With one hard brush of his thumb, and flick of his wrist, she was completely naked. Wet and panting hard. His eyes fell on her and looked over all her body. And for the first time since they had started she looked at him. Still void of any emotion, he rose to stand. She shivered at the sudden lack of contact. As he stood he pulled his eyes from her form, and with the same calm and confident strides as always, he moved across the room. In passing he picked up the knife, tray and remains of what had been clothing. She flung her body up in a sitting position. Suddenly self concious, an emotion which her body betrayed. Knees pulled in to her chest, arms warped around tight, covering herself looking at him. As if he heard her silent question he spoke, in the same emotionless velvet voice,

"you have proven yourself untrustworthy with any possessions woman. You are hear to serve lord Aizen. Remember that."

he never looked at her as he spoke, back kept turned and as he continued through the threshold. The large iron door scraped shut.


End file.
